


Nobody Likes A Showoff

by penguinparity



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penguinparity/pseuds/penguinparity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, if that’s the kind of game you’re rolling with when you ask people out, it’s no wonder Natasha's been trying to set you up with practically everyone she’s ever met,” Sam says casually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody Likes A Showoff

Steve is about to climb onto his beast of a motorcycle when he shoots Sam a considering look.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asks.  Sam’s leaning against a tree, still panting from their sparring session.

“I could eat,” Sam says after moment’s pretense of consideration.  His grin grows slowly wider in response to Steve’s pleased expression.

“That’s great. I, um. Someone told me I needed to try out Thai food.  I was thinking of crossing that one off the list tonight.  Would you like to go with me?”

Sam slides his sunglasses on to help block out the glare of the early evening sun and pushes himself away from the tree.

“Sure, you got a place in mind already?”

“Yeah, I found it on Yelp,” Steve replies.  “Decent reviews.  Nice ambience?  Not sure how important that is to the food, but a lot of people mentioned it. Also _very_ authentic.”

Sam laughs at Steve’s slightly mocking tone.  He’d only shown Steve the Yelp app a couple days earlier.  Now the man was casually mocking the biases of online reviewers.

“That’s the American palate for you: authenticity and how it looks.”  Sam grimaces as he tries to pull his sweaty shirt away from where it’s clinging to his stomach.  He doesn’t miss the way Steve’s eyes flicker down, nor the way he sucks his lower lip between his teeth.  “Unlike some other people, I can’t bust my ass for an hour in DC’s summer swelter without getting a little nasty.  Text me the address and I’ll meet you there.  I promise I’ll clean myself up nice and pretty first.”  Sam doesn’t even bother trying to hide his grin at Steve’s slightly dazed look.

“Ok,” Steve agrees, clearing his throat. Sam’s definitely not imagining the blush.  Turning to head towards his car, Sam pauses and decides to throw out a parting shot.

“You know, if that’s the kind of game you’re rolling with when you ask people out, it’s no wonder Natasha’s been trying to set you up with practically everyone she’s ever met,” Sam says casually, looking back over his shoulder at Steve with a smirk.

Steve visibly chokes for a second before visibly collecting himself.  He smiles slow and sweet for Sam, looking for a moment as if his intentions are nothing but sweet and pure.  Then he leans back on his hands against his motorcycle as his long legs slide out along the pavement.  Sam’s breath catches at the sight.  It’s not every day you get to see a national treasure _preening_.

“Are you flirting with me?” Steve asks innocently, looking up at him through lowered lashes.  Sam’s laugh busts out of him wholeheartedly.

“Here I am talking shit and you’re going for the long con, I see how it is.” Sam backs away slowly with his hands held up in mock surrender.

He’s most of the way home when his phone pings in quick succession with new messages.  There’s an address and a time.  Followed by a text with the question, _do you think this is ok for ‘casual’?_  The attached picture is of the motorcycle between Steve’s thick thighs.

Sam’s lucky he already parked before checking his phone or he might have crashed his new car.

_Nobody likes a show off_ , he sends back.  His phone pings again as he’s getting out of the car.

_That was the wrong picture_.  There’s another ping as a second picture comes through.  Sam laughs all the way into his house.

**Author's Note:**

> For sinsensory, from the prompt, "Sam/Steve, "Are you flirting with me?" :D?"


End file.
